A Wolf Like Me
by littlebuster
Summary: Amanda and Michael don't have enough attention as a couple so I'm just going to write this long ass story about them. M for smut and language
1. Chapter 1

After digging through his drawers for a pair of boxers, Michael flicked off the closet light and stood in the doorway. His wife was sitting up in bed, angrily glaring at him like usual.

"I cannot believe you!" She snapped. "You pulled his house off a cliff? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Michael decided that it would be better if he kept it a secret that it wasn't really the tennis coach. "Would you been happier if I had just killed him?" Michael barked clenching his fists. He usually did this when he was about to hit something.

"I would have been happier if you just left!" She screamed. As soon as she said this she knew she shouldn't have. Michael dropped his hands to his sides and the angry scowl changed into a haunting sad expression. This side of Michael was very rare. Not the sad, drinking away your troubles kind of side, but the innocent lost puppy side. He didn't know what to do or say he stood with his mouth slightly open. For a split second he felt relieved to be free from all the hate and neglect. Then he realized something that would torture him in the long run. He still loved her.

"Michael," her eyes softened and she struggled against the lump in her throat. "I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine," Michael said. "I give up." He closed his eyes. "I'll stay in a hotel until I find a place."

After everything, he would give her the house? She felt so guilty as she fought the tears. She didn't want him to see her cry. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest. For years she convinced herself that she hated him, but now here he was telling her he would leave and she felt like he was already gone. She longed for him to hold her and love her, but it would never work.

Michael felt his knees weaken. He couldn't think straight. All of their history and memories, gone. He had such a violent past with his parents. His father used to beat him and one day he left him and his mother. Michael was depressed and alcoholic but robbing stores and killing was his only outlet until he had met Amanda. Amanda was the only reason why he lowered the loaded pistol from his forehead and saved his last drink. She was his light. Ever since he moved to Los Santos and found himself in another woman everything had gone to shit. As soon as he cheated he wished he could take it back. If he knew one stupid night with a cheap whore would cost him his happiness he would have never done that. But that night, his head wasn't on straight, he recalled. Michael changed and left as fast he could. He _had _to get out of there, now. He wasn't sure how long this leaving thing would be but he hoped more no more than a week. Amanda had kicked him out plenty times before but none lasted for over a month.

After grabbing a few changes of clothes and a tooth brush, Michael made his way out the front door avoiding eye contact with Amanda. Watching Michael walk out the door was the hardest thing Amanda ever had to do. Her chest felt like it was breaking and her stomach was so high up in her throat, she felt like she was going to explode in tears any minute. She went upstairs and crawled into bed to cry for a few hours until Tracey knocked on the door.

"Mom?" She heard her daughter's voice.

"I just want to be alone right now," Amanda replied, her voice rusty from crying.

"Where did dad go?" Tracey continued.

"I don't know," Amanda replied, her heart like it had been stabbed. How could she feel so depressed and heartbroken over Michael, the man she had wanted to leave for so long.

Amanda heard Tracey's footsteps leave, and she eventually fell asleep in Michael's side of the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Amanda scanned the address that Jimmy sent to her before getting out of the car. This was it. She was walking through the Rockford Dorset Hotel parking lot to see Michael for the first time in a week. Her stomach was so light and fluttery that she couldn't catch her breath as she stood outside his door.

"Here goes nothing," she breathed before knocking on his door. Michael opened the door and froze. Amanda felt the lump in her throat get tighter as she scanned his familiar face. She noticed ever line and scar on his face and remembered them from what felt like an eternity ago. The familiarity struck her so hard and after days of longing for him tears began to stream down her face and she dropped her purse, dashing into his arms. Michael didn't understand why she did this, but continued to hold her, taking her in, going along with it because he still loved her. He wanted to ask her a dozen questions but kept his mouth shut, to savor the moment.

"I missed you," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"I missed you too baby."

She didn't want to pull away from his but when she did, he lead her into his room and shut the door.

"Want a drink?" he asked as Amanda sat down on the couch and watched him go to the kitchen and poke his face in a cupboard.

"No I'm fine," she replied as he reappeared from behind the cupboard door. "Michael we have to talk about this," she said. Michael turned to look at her. The moonlight from the in between the half open scarlet curtains cast a beautiful light across her eyes.

"Okay," he poured himself a drink and met her on the couch.

"I didn't want you to leave," Amanda began quietly. She watched him take a shot of his whiskey and convinced herself he was taking this seriously. 'He's probably just nervous,' she thought.

"But you said-"

"I didn't mean for that to come out, Michael. Those were my thoughts at that current moment," he listened thoughtfully, taking in all her words and details. "As soon as you left, I had realized what I had done, and I couldn't bear to face it. Michael, watching you leave was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my entire life."

He felt dizzy. "You thinking leaving was any easier?" he started. "My head was so clouded, I couldn't drive. I had to pull over like three times to remind myself to breath."

"Will you come home?" Amanda almost begged.

Michael stared at her for a moment before pulling her into another hug. Amanda was wrapped in his warmth and scent, she had longed for this too long she felt tears coming on again.

"Course I will."


	3. Chapter 3

"Daddy!" Tracey screamed from upstairs breaking the dialogue from the movie Michael had been watching. It had been two weeks since he had returned home, and he had already gotten back into the old routine. It was like nothing had happened at all.

"Daddy!" she called again. "Jimmy called me a whore!"

Michael sighed and stood up, clicking pause on his movie. This was the fourth time he had to pause his movie for something stupid. He went upstairs to see Tracey standing in Jimmy's doorway as he played Righteous Slaughter.

"Jim," Michael said walking in.

"Whatever she said is a lie," Jimmy didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"It is not!" Tracey stamped her foot.

"Trace, why don't you go find something else to do," Michael suggested, easing her off of the rage.

"You aren't even going to punish that little shithead?" She gestured towards Jimmy.

"I'll think of something," Michael halfheartedly said and lead Tracey out of Jimmy's room.

"He always gets away with stuff like this with Mom," Tracey said quietly to Michael once Jimmy was out of earshot. "Can you at least be on my side?"

"I'm not picking sides," Michael laughed a little," just go do something else." Before she could say anything else, Michael went down the stairs and into the living room, leaving Tracey to angrily slam her door. Settling back down on the couch he heard the front door shut and Amanda walk in with bags on each arm.

"Hi, baby," Amanda called as she removed her sunglasses and she took her bags upstairs. Michael looked over his shoulder in her direction, then back to his movie. About a half an hour later she returned downstairs in a bathrobe. She climbed onto the couch and cuddled up under Michael's arm. Her damp hair on his shoulder was cold, but it didn't bother him enough to push her off.

Michael could sense her eyes on him while he watched the movie and finally gave in and looked down at her. As soon as he made eye contact she cupped his face, and guided his mouth to hers. Amanda held her breath as their lips met. His warm hands had traveled to the back of her neck, making the skin pucker into goose bumps. He let his hands rest there for hot moment, before mumbling her name in his bedroom voice in between kisses. He remembered what drove her mad, what brought out the lustful side of her.

Amanda felt herself getting warmer and wetter by the second and longed for him to slip his hand up her bathrobe, but considering they were in the living room, it wasn't going to happen. She felt her stomach flutter as his hands slipped past the fabric and cupped the fullness of her breasts. He felt her response in her labored breathing, heaving of her chest, as he gently massaged them in his hands. Moving his fingers over her skin, he circled her nipples, smiling when she gasped as he gently tugged them . She leaned against him more, thrusting her chest into his hands.

Amanda moaned. "I missed this."

"Me too, baby," he purred.

She felt the heat pool between her legs and the tightness low in her stomach. Her awareness pulled away from focusing on his hands and she realized she could feel him pressing against her. She moved her hands down to rest on his hardened cock. She heard his even breath cut sharp and she smiled devilishly at him. For a sinful moment she let her hands wander before she sat up straight and pulled away from him. She watched Michael's mouth drop open and his demeanor change. If looks could kill Amanda would have died.

"Not in the living room, babe," She half laughed.

"I guess it wouldn't play out too well if the kids walked in on it," Michael sighed in agreement.

"Wanna go out tonight?" She purred and let her head fall into his lap, at such an angle so that she could view the TV.

"Sure, baby,"

"Mmm, where?" she grazed her finger tips down his thigh. "How about, Les Bianco?"

'Fine dining tonight, are we?" Michael lazily smiled. "Let's go get changed."

Amanda forced herself off his lap and followed him up the stairs. Michael pulled his shirt over his head and slipped off his shorts and launched them in the hamper. She watched him stand in his boxers, casually browsing the closet for nice suit. As he searched Amanda let her bathrobe fall off. She was feeling so hot tonight, she wanted him to fuck her. Michael returned from the closet and froze. Amanda's eyes flickered to the movement in his boxers and allowed a dirty smile to spread across her face.

"So, your car or mine," She turned away from him, teaseling, and began to paw through her drawer for underwear.

"Uhh, m-mine." She heard him stutter behind her and her smile got wider.

"What's the matter, _angel?_"Amanda purred, amused.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you..like this," he moved towards her.

Amanda leaned back against him and his hands met her waist. She turned her head and kissed the stubble on his chin. "You look beautiful," he mumbled.

"I'll call for reservations," Amanda continued to tease. She loved Michael like this. So sincere and soft, he was at such a vulnerable state. How could someone like Michael, who spends hours a day strangling, shooting, and stealing, be so soft and sweet towards her. She felt too powerful when he was like this. If she wanted to, she could have him down on his knees begging, but she would never do something like that to someone as sweet as Michael. 'As sweet as Michael,' she laughed to herself. 'That would sound odd out of context.'

Once they arrived at Les Bianco they were seated at a table in the center of the restaurant. It was a fine restaurant, with every expensive detail, from the velvet table clothes to the soft clang of champagne glasses.

"It's so nice to have one on one time with you," Amanda said to Michael as soon as their menus arrived. "We can dine like a real couple."

Michael smiled cockily and looked down at his menu, "Real couple, eh?"

"Well not to point out the obvious, but you haven't been the greatest husband, let alone father."

Michael smirked. "Let's just not start tonight, please?"

At least he was trying. Amanda smiled at him, genuinely. "We needed this. A night out, you and I." She flashed him a pristine smile and let her chin fall into her hand, propping herself up.

"Agreed. I can't fucking remember the last time we went out."

Amanda felt so reeled in by him for some reason. He just looked so classy and much more slender in his suit. Or was it his natural charm? She couldn't decide.

"Red looks good on you, baby," Michael commented, tilting his head down towards her cleavage.

Amanda narrowed her eyes at his unrighteous comment, and glanced down at the text Tracey sent.

_How's it going with the asshole :) ? - Traci _

"So I really want to know," Amanda broke the silence. Michael turned to his head away from the menu again to meet her eyes. "Where do you go all day?"

"Are you-"

"I'm not accusing you of cheating," She interrupted his feedback. "It's nothing like that, I'm just curious as to why every time you come stumbling home, you're covered with blood, usually someone else's, and injuries."

"Mmm," Michael hummed while considering telling her. "Just doing my job."

"Which is?" She narrowed her eyes impatiently.

He choked back a laugh, "Come on baby, does it really matter?"

"Yes," Amanda wanted him to spill the details.

"Fine, I do work for various different people, assassinations, heists, armed robberies, exedra," He looked relived as she raised her eye brows, but continued to smile.

"If you couldn't' handle it, you wouldn't do it," she applauded. "I'm grateful you come home in one piece."

"Just about. Usually my head isn't screwed on right or I'm just so fucking stressed."

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry I'm such a bitch about your attitude when you stumbled inside drunk. I understand why you drink."

"I understand why _you _drink," Michael said in his bedroom voice.  
>Amanda flashed him a dirty smile with a wink, and took another sip of her champagne.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"One hundred dollars isn't much to ask for! Stop being so selfish! You're the worst daddy in the whole world!" Tracey's angry voice was bombarding Michael for an ounce of cash, an ounce she didn't earn, but neither did he. "Maybe I should be a bank robber _too. _So then I wouldn't have to ask you every time," she threatened. "Wouldn't you be _soooo_ happy if I got sent to prison or died?"

"Tracey. If I give you money, will you shut the fuck up?"Michael clenched his fists as he swore.

"Yes!" her demeanor changed in an instant. A giant grin spread across her face spelling victory. She was usually successful after begging enough. "Thank you daddy! You're the best daddy in the whole world!" She said as grateful as she possibly could, which wasn't much, as he pulled a hundred dollar bill from his wallet.

"I thought I was the _worst _dad in the world," Michael sighed as she stuffed it in her pocket.

"I love you!" Tracey ran to the front door slamming it behind her.

"So you'll hand her hundred dollar bills but won't buy me a fucking car?" Jimmy called from the couch to the kitchen without looking over. "She was always your favorite."

This was partially true. Michael didn't want to admit it though. "What are you talking about, Jim? Neither of you are my favorites." Now this was completely true.

"Dad, can I talk to you?" Jimmy changed the subject with such an odd tone, it was almost impossible to recognize on his son. "I need help with something..."

"Uh-oh," Michael smirked cockily.

"Daaad!"

"Okay, you little shit! What?"

Michael left the kitchen and sat on the couch next to Jimmy.

"So there's this girl," Jimmy began and scowled at Michael's response to the first sentence.

"Aww jeez, Jim. A girl?"

"Yeah, but she likes me. And video games," Jimmy said somewhat nervously.

"How do you know she likes you?" Michael asked, scratching the stubble along his jaw. _Shave soon. _He noted.

"I don't," Jimmy shyly admitted. "BUT," he said quickly, "she talks to me a lot and laughs at all the stupid shit I say."

"Hmm," Michael thought. He and Amanda had met at a strip club, where she lapped danced him almost totally naked, then later that night, while he was leaning against the building outside smoking, she was walking to her car and when he said hi, she thought he was cute and gave him her number. They were in love after the third date. "How'd you meet this girl?"

"At fucking game stop!" Jimmy looked embarrassed. Michael snorted and then started laughing which made Jimmy get angry. "Daaad! Stop being such a douche and take me seriously!"

"Continue," Michael struggled not to start laughing again, but couldn't hide the giant smirk on his face.

"I got her number and player ID and we've been playing righteous slaughter together for about a week. I want to go out somewhere with her, or at least see her again, but I'm scared. I've never been laid in my life!" Jimmy rambled.

"Chill the fuck out, Jimbo. Just casually ask her to go to game stop again or something," Michael advised.

"But."

"But, what?"

"I don't know," Jim sighed. "What if she turns me down? I can't handle rejection!"

"Jimmy you ask me for a car every day."

"So?" Jimmy narrowed his eyes.

"Do I say yes?" Michael continued.

"You tell me to fuck off."

"How do you handle that? That's rejection."

"I roll my eyes, or say fuck you, or something," Jimmy said.

"Well if she says no, say fuck you," Michael instructed.

"DAD! That's a horrible idea!" Jimmy got angry again.

"Jim, I ran whores, I know a thing or two," Michael pointed out. "Women respond when you treat them like shit."

"Really?" Jimmy asked in disbelief

"Fuck, yeah," he encouraged. "And she's probably a bitch anyway.

Amanda appeared from out back in her swim suit. "Hi, boys."

"Manda."

"Mom."

"Ugh, I've been out there for two hours and I don't look a single shade tanner," She complained, mixing a daiquiri.

"You've been out there since four?" Jimmy asked, astonished. "I can barely be outside for a minute before I'm like: nope!" he laughed at his own joke.

Amanda walked over to the couch and sat down, considerably close to Michael.

"What's this cute, one on one discussion you guys are having?" Amanda asked while adjusting her black bikini top.

"My girlfriend," Jimmy said quickly and gave Michael a go-along-with-it look.

She took a sip of her daiquiri. "Really? That's great, Jimmy! What's her name?"

"Mia." Jimmy's phone rang just as he replied. After glancing down at the contact he looked back up, biting his lip, eyes slightly wider.

"Is that her?" Amanda smiled and Jimmy nodded, taking the call out of the room.

"Jimmy's got a girlfriend," Amanda said in such a voice. "Isn't that cute, cookie?"

"Eh," Michael shrugged. "It's about time his fat ass has taken an interest in relationships."

Amanda turned her attention away from where Jimmy was sitting to look at Michael. "Remember when we used to date?" Her eyes were light and her smile was genuine.

"Course I do," Michael waved his hand at the question.

"Those were the days," she sighed. "No kids, no worrying, no _Trevor._"

"As I recall, Trevor was there, just less involved."

"Just me and you and love," Amanda purred, closing her eyes to imagine her previous years, ignoring Michael's objection.

"You were my puppy, my cute little bad boy," She poked his nose.

Michael scoffed a little on the nicknames but Amanda's mouth slammed in to his, catching him off guard until he adjusted to what was going on and contributed to the party. His hands held the small of her back pulling her closer in to him.

Michael tasted like whiskey, which Amanda had hated for so long, but as soon as she sensed it in his mouth, she couldn't get enough. After finally pulling away she caught her breath as he took her hand and led her upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

1987

Michael age 23

Amanda age 17

Ludendorff, North Yankton

Had it been the song? Or the costume? He couldn't figure it out but he just couldn't keep his eyes off this girl. She was performing on stage in a sleazy ensemble, a baby pink coloured lace set of lingerie had put a spell on him. She was gorgeous. And she knew he had his eye on her. _Pour Some Sugar On Me_. The song was new. Her eye caught the sparkle of light and she dropped down low, almost touching the floor. A few away from him, he sat front row. She bit her lip and with a wing stood back up and swung around the pole. After some time she left the stage and as she passed by, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a private room. She looked a lot younger up close. She pulled off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. Unclipping the top part of her bra she let it fall onto his jacket and she began grinding on his lap. "What's your name, sweetie?" She purred.

"Michael," he was so smug but almost star stuck at the same time.

"Okay, Michael. How's this?" She got lower to play with his erection, then swooped back up her face not an inch from his she licked her lips. Michael wanted to kiss her and keep her but she wasn't allowed to be touched. He couldn't get over how young she looked. She had to be 16 _at most._ He wanted to ask how old you had to be to work here to at least get an idea but he couldn't find words he was in such a dreamy state.

"You can call me Pepper," She positioned herself in between his knees. She leaned her face close to his crotch but came back up and continued to give him a lap dance. He had ran whores and been to strip clubs countless times but this girl was magic.

After the dance and a few others that couldn't compare Michael stepped outside to feed his addiction and lit a cigarette. He leaned against the cold bricks and looked out into the snowy night. The strip club was at the edge of Ludendorff and was completely out of character for this quaint little farm town. He had originally grown up in Jersey which was a huge difference from here. Being only a twenty miles from the Canadian border this place was freezing.

Michael heard the backdoor shut and saw Pepper in a big winter jacket, holding her costume in one hand and waving to a girl with the other.

"Bye, Cocoa," she said and almost missed Michael as she walked past.

"Michael, hi," Pepper smiled a little shyly, now that she wasn't doing her job.

"Hey," he replied and took another puff.

"Um, you don't think I could have one do you?" She asked, gesturing towards his cigarette and leaned against the wall next to him.

"Knock yourself out, kid," Michael pulled the pack from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She stuck it in between her lips and let him light it. For a split second as he lit it, he glanced up to read her expression. God she was so gorgeous.

"Thanks," she took a puff. For a moment he thought she read his mind, but then realized it was for the cig.

"Oh, yeah. Anytime."

She still looked young and innocent with a cigarette sticking out of mouth. Michael couldn't stop looking at her until finally she asked. "What are you staring at?" with a small laugh.

"I could have sworn you had to be 21 or older to work here," Michael scratched his stubble.

"Hah, well I guess that rule doesn't apply to me. The owner here, is my best friend's brother and according to my," She gave air quotes, "ID, I'm 21."

He smirked. "Could have fooled me. You look about 15."

"17 actually, but it'll be our little secret," She gave him a wink.

"So, what's your story?" Michael asked curiously .

She pulled a scrap of paper from her coat pocket and a pen and scribbled a phone number on it.

"Here tough guy, how about you take me out sometime and I can tell you that story another night." She said and headed towards her car.

"Uh. o-okay," Michael stuttered.

"And it's Amanda!" She called and shut the car door.

"What an idiot," She laughed to herself. "Good thing he's cute."


	6. Chapter 6

Michael briskly wiped the trickling blood from the side of his face with his sleeve.

"Come on!" He yelled at Gus, who was empting the last of his bullets into a bulky cop. They took off full speed together as Trevor pulled up the van.

Michael flung open the door and piled in. They sped for the free way as cop sirens screeched behind them. Michael dared to glance back at the ocean of red and blue lights, blinding in the dark.

"Fuck," He breathed.

"Don't sweat it, Mikey. We'll lose em," Trevor reassured as he floored the gas pedal. They didn't seem to be making much progress until Trevor sharply cut the wheel left and they went flying off the high way onto the beach below. For a split second before landing Michael could feel the air moving downwards as they fell.

They heard a loud crack, of the tires popping and a shatter of glass from the windows. They spun out of control and crashed into the breaking waves. Trevor steered the car out of the water before too much damage was done and raced down the beach, clouds of sand gusting from behind the tires.

"Just like the glory days, motherfuckers!" Michael laughed and smashed out the window next. Sticking his head and gun out he fired at the cop car tires spinning the cars out of control. Trevor made his way under the board walk and found a branching road that led them to the highway. The road would take them all the way to Paleto Bay. The cop sirens began to blur out of hearing until they were almost totally faded gone.

"What's the take?" Michael asked, breaking the silence.

"About two million." Gus said and unzipped the bag of cash.

Michael did so two and pulled out a stack. "I love the smell of cash," he rolled his back.

"Stop dreaming, ladies we still need to get out of the area and hide this shit!" Trevor growled, clenching the wheel.

"He's right, dawg. I don't wanna be incarcerated or some shit." Franklin agreed.

After hours of driving they finally made it to Paleto Bay, filled up with gas and traveled a little ways south to Sandy Shores, where Trevor unloaded the cash and hid it in a safe at his "office."

"I'll get this back to you guys once Lester divides the cut. I'll be in your bank accounts by Monday." Trevor announced as they went out front and he locked the door.

"Everyone needs to split up, they're going to be looking for a crew," Michael ordered. Gus and Paige disappeared into the night discreetly. On the other Franklin was not so discrete as he pried open a car door and sped off. Lester pulled out his phone and dialed up a cab.

"Psst. Cupcake. Come here." Trevor hissed, opening his truck door. Michael glanced over his shoulder to see that Trevor was signaling to him. Just as he was about to demand why he was "cupcake", Trevor interrupted.

"Listen tonight was a total success. Reminds me of the old days when me and you used to skip town and run around aimlessly just to avoid death or cops." Trevor smiled genuinely for once, exposing his meth damaged set of teeth.

"And these were _good _memories for you?" Michael sneered making Trevor smile only grow wider.

"I miss it, Mikey. Tonight made me feel so alive. Let's do this again sometime."

Michael rolled his eyes.

"Lemme give you a lift home."

Later that night, after Michael arrived home, he found the house almost empty. Amanda was the only one home and sitting on the couch watching a movie.

"Hey babe," Michael called and dashed up the stairs to hop in the shower. After washing off all the evil he had for the night he pulled on a pair of boxers and a black t shirt and headed downstairs with a glass of scotch.

Michael sat down on the couch next to Amanda, and lit a cigarette.

"How was work?" She gave air quotes at the word work.

"Fine, thanks for asking, dear." He took a puff.

"Really? In the house?" She rolled her eyes.

"Look, I had a long day. Can we not?" He sighed.

"Whatever."

To lighten the mood, Michael scooted a little closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer to him. She gave in and rested her head against his chest.

"You smell clean." She pulled at the fabric on his shirt.

"Mmm."

"Hey you know, I was thinking," Amanda sat up to look him in the face.

"Oh no."

She scowled at him for a second, but then recalled what she was about to tell him with a big smile. "Our first date was so cute," She said. "At the old Ludendorff movie theater."

"Hell yeah it was, you rode on the back of my motorcycle, haha." He was daydreaming now, caught in the memory.

"Remember that one night. The night I lost my virginity to you?" Amanda asked, eyes almost watering.

"Yep, third date?"

"Yeah. It was in the back seat of your car up on that hill under the radio tower. The spot overlooked Ludendorff. Small town but bright lights. I remember how they shimmered." She had goose bumps now. "Tracey was born three years later and in that same spot almost four years later you proposed to me."

"And we had that nighttime Christmas wedding in 1994. That was pretty kickass."

"I want you to take me there again, Michael." She whispered. "Not now, but someday."


End file.
